


(All I'm Getting From You Is) Colors

by profound-boning (farawaystardust)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cashier Dean, Dean in Glasses, Flirting, Gas-N-Sip, Hair Dyeing, High School Student Dean, M/M, Nerd Dean, Older Castiel, Piercings, Punk Castiel, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, not by much though there is some teasing about the age difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:23:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9130360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farawaystardust/pseuds/profound-boning
Summary: Christmas morning brings joy and laughter to the Winchester household.First and foremost because Dean now hasink black tipsin his wheat-colored hair.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Supernatural Prompt Challenge. December theme: Employment AUs. My prompt: Convenience Store AU "Hey bastard this store is already closed oh wait you’re hot never mind please do come in"  
> I was trying to do something totally different with this and ended up just hating everything and scrapping it... until I was inspired to add a soulmate aspect to this universe, using this prompt: if your soulmate dyes their hair, you get highlights in the same color.
> 
> a million thanks to my love [Naomi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ackles_likes_snackles/) for the extremely helpful last minute feedback!! 
> 
> rated T for cursing

Dean outright groans when he hears the door swing open. He’s about to holler something to the effect of “Hey bastard we’re already closed” but when he stands upright and sees his newest customer, the words die on his tongue.

The Gas N’ Sip on Cherry Street sees enough traffic, particularly late at night, and this man has slipped in just before Dean could get over and lock the doors. It’s midnight and Dean just wants to go home.

But a customer is a customer. A good-looking one, too.

“Hey,” the man greets as he moves swiftly down one of the aisles. “Don’t mind me, I’ll be quick. I promise.”

“No worries,” Dean tells him, though internally he’s punching himself in the face. He plasters on a smile anyway. “Last minute Christmas supplies?”

The man seems to hesitate before he pulls open the door of the refrigerator. “No,” he answers shortly, transferring a quart of milk into his other hand and shutting the door again.

He moves towards the candy aisle, and Dean wonders if he’s said something to upset him. It's not necessarily a big deal, but as a general rule, he doesn't like to upset anyone. Best to try and make the guy smile.

“But ya didn’t bring me anything, so you can’t be done shopping yet.” Dean turns on his most charming grin.

Success! The smile that grows on the customer’s beautiful face is, needless to say, beautiful. Dean’s heart flutters a bit in his chest at the knowledge that _he_ put it there.

“That is true,” the man intones. Dean notes as he approaches the counter that he is, in fact, a man. A couple of years older than Dean, scruffy where Dean is still fresh faced, and though he is not taller he is certainly more muscled than Dean is. Dean also notices a small hoop through one ear lobe and a piercing he can’t remember the name of resting above the man’s full upper lip.

 _Stop checking the guy out, Winchester,_ Dean scolds himself and focuses on… Okay, bad idea. The guy’s eyes are like a cloudless sky, bright blue and—

“Ahem.” The man clears his throat and Dean flushes at being caught. He drops his eyes immediately and brings the items closer to himself to be scanned, unfortunately missing the smile tinging his customer’s lips.

“Can I get you a bag?” Dean asks.

“Nah, I can carry it,” Blue-eyes tells him. “I’m actually surprised to see—well, to _not_ see Meg. This is usually her shift.”

“Oh.” Dean pushes his glasses back up his nose. “Meg texted me that something came up, and I said I’d work for her. I wanna scoop up as many hours as possible.” He chuckles awkwardly and passes back the two bags of chips and the milk. The customer leaves a wrinkly five dollar bill and some coins from his pocket on the counter, already backing towards the door.

“Well, bummer she’s out, but it was nice to meet you, Dean.”

Dean startles at the mention of his name before remembering the tag pinned to his blue vest. “Oh, um—”

“It’s Cas. See you next time.” And with that, he’s gone.

 _Cas._ Dean realizes he’s been holding his breath and lets it out, feeling the tension in his chest release. Wow. He’s had some attractive customers before and seen a few particularly good-looking kids around school, and, of course, there are celebrities like Emma Watson, Amandla Stenberg, and Freddie Stroma in the world. But this guy was especially… something. Something about the slope of his shoulders or the curve of his jaw just did it for Dean.

 _No,_ he shakes himself. _A handsome stranger came into the store and that’s it. Doesn’t mean anything beyond that._

He swiftly closes the store and departs for home. Tomorrow—actually, _today_ is the day before Christmas Eve. It’s _Christmas Adam_ as his best friend Charlie likes to call it. He wonders if he should tell Charlie about the hot customer he’s had and makes a mental note to send her a message later.

Flirting is fun, but for Dean (and Charlie, too) it’s just a practice for when you find your perfect partner or partners. After so many years of seeing an example in his parents, Dean is completely content to wait and find that special someone.

:     :     :    :     :

Christmas morning brings joy and laughter to the Winchester household.

First and foremost because Dean now has _ink black tips_ in his wheat-colored hair.

He’d stared at his reflection for a solid minute, gaping. He’d gently touched the back of his head, the sides, and smoothed his hand along the top. Nothing. He’d pinched and pulled at the hairs which stand more or less straight up above his forehead; he’d moved them this way and that. They are definitely black and seemingly permanent and it was definitely _not_ his doing.

Sam had just cackled, and his dad was no better. Dean had glared at them and then allows his mother to card her fingers through it, too.

“Oh, Dean,” she says with a smile. “You’re ready to be with your soulmate.”

“I know, ma,” Dean grouses and plops himself down on the couch. “Just wish it didn’t make me look so weird.”

“It’ll fade in a few days, son. Don’t let it bother you too much; it’s a sign of good things to come.” John puts his hand on Mary’s shoulder and smiles. Dean knows very well the stories about young Marine John Winchester waking up to bright blonde highlights in his black hair, his Drill Instructors chastising him for being 'out of uniform.' On the other side was Mary Campbell, annoyed by the dark streaks in her long locks when John aggressively dyed his back to normal. So a few months later when they literally ran into each other outside a local movie theater—both sporting half-black-half-blonde hair—everything just clicked.

Dean wonders if he and his soulmate will have an 'aha!' moment. A sort of, 'Hello, I’ve been waiting for you.'

He thinks about them all day long, wishing for them to have a happy holiday season, too.

The Snapchats he sends only to Charlie, Ash, Jo, and Benny are received with a similar mixture of teasing and excitement. Dean is the first of his friends to receive his soulmate sign, so they’re supportive. Has he already met them or not? Does he have any preferences or dreams about who it might be?

Sam continues to poke at him about it, but the way he asks Dean how it feels betrays his genuine curiosity.

They spend the whole day enjoying their gifts, cooking and eating (and having a little wine) and Dean contemplates what Christmases in the future may entail if he is to be wooed by his soulmate soon.

:     :     :     :     :

A few days later his hair is back to normal, the initial color change having faded quickly since it wasn’t his own dye job but his soulmate’s.

He’s back at the Gas N’ Sip, where Meg had given him just a little more grief for his briefly colorful hair before leaving him at the register so she can do inventory.

The door swings open while he’s rearranging the newest magazines in their stand.

“Hello,” he calls over his shoulder. “Good morning!”

“Morning,” grunts a deep but familiar voice.

Dean turns and recognizes _Cas_ moving towards the coffee machines. Last time he’d been wearing leather pants that Dean would vehemently deny haunted his daydreams, but this time he’s wearing joggers and a tee under a beige trench coat of all things. But it’s kind of frumpy and casual and _cute_  and Dean admonishes his stomach for doing a somersault about it.

He moves back behind the counter and asks, “How’s it goin’ today?”

Cas just grunts again and grabs the largest coffee cup available.

“About that well, then.” Dean jokes. He knows caffeine-deprived crankiness when he sees it.

He does earn a little smile from Cas who dumps five creamers into his cup before bringing it to Dean’s register.

“One milk with coffee, ready to go. Do you want that box of Krispy Kremes too, or?”

“All right, all right.” Cas laughs. “I’m not a morning person. This doesn’t usually happen.”

“Mornings are fine,” Dean defends.

“Uh, no.” Cas snorts, tugging on the silver hoop in his ear. “But I go where the news takes us.”

“You’re a reporter?”

“Even worse.” Cas slides the money across the counter. “I’m the photographer.”

Dean pretends to gasp dramatically. Cas salutes him and moves towards the door.

“Have a good rest of your day,” he calls and cringes at how _stupid_ that sounded.

But Cas gives him a glowing smile and nods before pushing the door open with his hip and disappearing into the parking lot. Dean nudges his glasses and gets back to work.

:     :     :     :     :

The Winchesters spend New Years at the Roadhouse with the Harvelles like they do every year.

This, of course, means that Jo and their friends get to tease him firsthand about his new gold and silver highlights.

“Your soulmate is really going all out,” Ash observes sagely.

“A real party animal,” Benny adds, sipping his one glass of champagne they’ve each been allowed. “Good for you, brother.”

Dean shoves at his friends, a little embarrassed but getting used to it. Plus he knows they mean well and are genuinely happy for him.

Charlie giggles, the alcohol already a little much for her. “You still don’t know who they are though?”

“Nope,” Dean admits. “I haven’t made any new friends lately. I dunno if—” His mind wanders, just for a moment, to the handsome face of his newest regular customer before he forcefully dodges that thought. “I mean, maybe we’re gonna meet here in the new few weeks. Who knows?” No point daydreaming about something so unlikely.

He secretly _loves_ speculating about his soulmate. Will they be a stranger, or someone familiar? Will they like his glasses? Will they be nerdy like he is? They have to watch all the 'nerdy' movies with him, at least, they’re classics.

Will they want to have a big family with him? Travel around a bit, see the ocean, take lots of photos and buy tacky souvenirs?

Will they hold his hand and kiss him when the ball drops on the next New Year?

:     :     :     :     :

Another week and a half passes, and the Regional Science Fair quickly approaches. Dean wakes up ready to bring in his project and sweep the Microbiology category. He’s prepared and practiced and—

_Purple?_

The front part of his hair is, again, not its normal shade. Going to work with strange color in his hair is, well, strange, but it didn’t get in his way.

Today is actually _important._ Even though he’s certain he’ll do well, the Science Fair is still special to him. And now he’s got silly purple hair.

It takes all of Mary Winchester’s calm and collected attitude to soothe Dean’s anxiety about the effect his hair will have at the competition.

If anything, she tells him with a kiss goodbye, it’s something an older (and typically more old-fashioned) judge would see as a sign of maturity in a young person.

The color is very bright but it ends up fading rather quickly, to Dean’s relief. The black was weird enough, the metallic tints were strange but kind of exciting, the purple just made him look crazy. (Luckily the Science Fair judges did not agree and still awarded him first place.)

Another Saturday morning shift at the Gas N’ Sip passes slowly. So slowly, in fact, that Dean is sent to clean the windows.

Making him an easy target for Cas, who notices and sneaks around the greeting card display to spook him.

Dean drops the bottle of Windex and paper towel in his hand in surprise. Cas’s laugh makes him look even more handsome.

“Gotcha.” He sniggers, leaning against the wall.

“Rude,” Dean replies, rocking back on his haunches. “No manners at all.”

Cas puts a hand over his heart. “You wound me, Dean. I can be very polite. Charming, even.”

“Is that so,” Dean says with an incredulous air. He sticks out a hand, which Cas takes in his own and gives him a tug so he can get on his feet. “Quite the gentleman, you are.”

“Of course.” Cas gives him a short bow, making Dean snort. The twinkle in Cas’s blue eyes stirs butterflies deep in Dean’s gut, which he ignores.

The ring under Cas’s nose used to be gold but now it’s silver, and it’s actually sort of pointed on the bottom, like a rounded triangle.

“Your, uh—” Dean touches his philtrum, feeling awkward. “It’s cool. I like the shape of it.”

“Oh, my septum?” Cas flicks at the jewelry with a fond smile. “Thanks.”

“Yeah.” Dean ducks his head. _Why are you so damn awkward?_

“It’s—. I got it as a gift,” Cas tells him, looking a bit awkward himself. “For Christmas, you know.”

“Sure.” Dean nods. “Any other cool stuff?”

“He—my brother, he gave me two of these actually. Though I think the other one is more of a joke, honestly.”

“What, he gave you a big mustache one or something?”

Cas gives him a startled laugh in return. “No, it’s—well, it's kind of stupid but maybe I’ll wear it. Next time.”

“Oh.” Dean flushes at the implication and hurries to put his cleaning supplies back on the counter.

“You, um.” Cas starts. It seems odd that he would stutter over his words but who is Dean to judge. Maybe he hasn’t had his coffee yet. “You having a good holiday?”

“Yep.” Dean turns around to face him. “Spent time with family. Annoyed my little brother. Ate all my favorite foods.” He debates for a split second telling Cas he’s gotten his soulmate sign, but that is kind of personal news to be sharing with a stranger, so he ignores the urge. “Back to school already, actually.”

“Oh man, that blows. I remember that feeling.” As soon as he says it, Cas visibly cringes. “I mean, uh—. Shit.” He runs a hand through his dark, messy hair. Now that he’s noticed it, Dean kind of digs Cas’s hair. Dark and soft-looking and kind of messy. “I sounded like such a creepy old man for a second there. I’m not really that old or anything, just twenty-two.” He says it like it’s really important that Dean knows Cas isn’t terribly old.

“Getting there, then,” Dean jibes. “You got any bald spots yet?”

“Shut up.” Cas laughs. Damn these butterflies.

After Cas departs with a cup of tea and a bag of gummy bears (“I only drink coffee in the morning and bears are better than worms.”) Dean has a stern conversation with himself about his growing crush on Cas.

It’s both pointless and stupid. Pointless because he _has a soulmate_ and they are practically at his doorstep. He just needs to be patient. Stupid because Cas is older (just a little bit though) and he’s… well, he’s _cool_ where Dean could never pull it off. Why would Cas be interested in a dork? He’s proud of being smart and he’s not bullied or anything, but Dean knows he’s not exactly Mr. Debonair Suave.

And none of that matters anyway, because Dean doesn’t need to waste his time having a crush on or dating someone who isn’t his soulmate. Or so he tells his traitorous heart.

:     :     :     :     :

Saturday, January 24th dawns like any other day. Today is, however, not just any other day for Dean because today is his eighteenth birthday.

He knows that today will consist of awesome things like his mom cooking his favorite breakfast, relaxing with his family, going to the Roadhouse for lunch, and having a party there later with all his friends.

In reality, today doesn’t quite pass the way that he’d planned; starting with his appearance.

Over the past couple of weeks, Dean has had some strange looking hair. This time, his tips are a soft baby pink color.

It… Actually, it looks pretty damn good if you ask Dean.

Of course, it’s still weird _punk_ hair, but this shade doesn’t look half bad.

He grins at himself in the bathroom mirror thinking perhaps this is a sign, or at least is a happy birthday surprise.

He’s halfway into a plate of fluffy waffles when his phone rings.

“Hey, Dean-o.” Although with how sick she is, Meg’s voice makes the greeting sound a little more like ‘Hebdeeno.’ “I, uh, I hate to do this on your birthday and all. I came in and opened her up, I just feel like I’m gonna fall over. Or get every customer sick.” (That’s what he thinks she says, anyway.)

Dean sighs. “Why’d you even go in, Meg? You sound like death.” She chuckles but that quickly devolves into a coughing fit. “All right all right all right, don’t keel over, please. That’d be messy. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Plans of comfortable laziness derailed for the time being, Dean dresses for work and heads over in his dad’s Baby. There aren’t any customers inside, and Dean clocks in at the register before heading to Meg’s office to shoo her out of the store. She thanks him again and tells him to have a couple of free goodies as a treat.

Pointedly not thinking about a scruffy jaw and wide hands, he opens a package of gummy bears.

He sees a few regular morning people like Rufus Turner and Anna Milton before Cas himself arrives. He hasn’t been there every time Dean has worked, but it would be a lie if Dean said he didn’t wonder if Cas was going to come in during every single shift.

But today’s visit is noticeably different, and though he doesn’t know it now, Dean will be telling this story for years to come.

“Hi there, welc—. What the—?” Not only is Cas sporting what appears to be a bumblebee septum piercing, but his hair is a light bubblegum pink color.

“What?” Cas says in a defensive tone, one hand coming up to first brush his nose piercing and then, fluff his cotton candy colored hair. “My new look isn’t working for you, huh?”

Dean has never been speechless like this before. First of all, that bee piercing is damned adorable. But second and most importantly, _pink hair._ It’s the same pink that he saw in the bathroom mirror this morning, he’s sure of it. His knees feel weak as the pieces come together in his mind.

“I—. You—.” Yep, still working on speech. Cas seems wary as he approaches the counter like he thinks Dean would ridicule his appearance. Dean sees the moment where it _clicks_ for Cas.

“Your—you—? Holy shit. Really?”

“Yeah.” Dean breathes, a smile growing wide on his cheeks. “Is this—? How can we be sure? I don’t—I dunno if I noticed a different color on you before.”

“Well.” Cas thinks for a moment. “The first time we met I hadn’t dyed it in a long time, but right after I dyed it black. I wouldn’t be surprised if you couldn’t tell the difference though,” he muses. “Then I tried—it was purple, I think. Terrible. Oh and that temporary stuff for New Years. Silver and gold.”

Dean subtly pinches his forearm. _Holy shit._ It has to be Cas. Cas is his—? “You’re my—?” He tries but he’s smiling too hard to get it out.

Cas opens his arms in a beckoning gesture and Dean comes around the counter. He’s smiling too, and it’s gummy and full of adoration. And he’s wearing a _bee earring_ in his nose. They sway into each other’s personal space shyly, Dean's hands on Cas's chest and Cas's hands on Dean's shoulders and Dean thinks he's a little in love already.

“My soulmate is an elderly punk,” Dean teases, tugging on the zipper of Cas’s leather jacket.

“Did your parents drop you off at work today?” Cas teases him right back, pushing Dean’s glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “Pack you a cute little lunch?”

“Nah, but there’s birthday cake waiting for me at home since I’m eighteen today you assbutt,” Dean tells him with a grin. “Come over?”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“There’s those manners.” Dean reaches for Cas’s hand. “They’ll want to meet you. Been bugging me about my weird highlights.”

Cas throws his head back to laugh, and Dean admires the long line of his throat, the divot between his collarbones.

“I’m—I’m really glad it’s you, Dean,” Cas admits, his face becoming a bit more serious. “Christmas isn’t a good time of year for me, but meeting you was like—. Something felt different, I guess.”

Dean nods and squeezes his fingers. “Me too, Cas. And I’m sorry about your Christmas.”

“There’s always the next one. Plus this new year’s looking pretty good so far.” That flirtatious smile is back, causing Dean to swoon a bit.

Pretty good so far indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> [on tumblr](http://profound-boning.tumblr.com/post/155199081854/)
> 
> in case you're curious about Cas's jewelry: [triangle piercing](https://www.etsy.com/listing/398454593/triangle-septum-nose-ring-septum-ring) and [bee piercing](http://www.etsy.com/listing/451175044/rose-gold-bee-septum-ring)


End file.
